November 9, 1962
Alcatraz
Consciousness came in increments but remained far off and dream- like. Initially, MacNally became aware of lying faceup on a table, staring at a light green ceiling. His lids were heavy; his thoughts as foggy as the Bay weather. His eyes fluttered closed and he drifted off to a semiaware state.
two voices
far off
but nearby
“Dr. Tumaco’s on his way,” a woman said.
“Finelli warned us he was going to escape,” a male voice said with a Boston inflection. “We were supposed to keep a close watch over him. But someone screwed up and approved kitchen duty…”
footsteps
fast
coming closer
And then, a second male voice: “What have we got?”
The Boston man: “Inmate Walton MacNally. He was attempting to escape and injured himself out behind the Powerhouse.”
“Vitals?”
The woman: “Stable, but pulse is rapid and he appears to have suffered substantial head trauma.”
“Start an IV, saline drip.”
Fiddling, metal clinking…movement. Air brushing by his face.
fading into sleep
far off
nothingness
then a voice
The doctor: “And you are?”
“Ray Strayhan.”
“So, Officer Strayhan. What happened?”
“Like I said, doc, he was involved in an escape attempt. Killed Jack Taylor.”
“I meant what happened to the patient, not Officer Taylor.”
fingers probing-
stomach
neck
head-
pain!
pain!
“What’s it matter?”
“Officer, I’m not going to ask you again. I need to know what type of trauma the patient sustained so I can properly diagnose his condition.”
eyelid pulled open
penlight flicked across face
pain!
hand on wrist
pinprick
pain!
“He resisted, got violent, tried to punch Russ-Officer Ilg. I’m not sure what happened. We did what we had to do to restrain him. It was dark, we didn’t know what weapons he had. Taylor was stabbed and his.38 was missing. We couldn’t take a chance MacNally was gonna shoot or stab us. We weren’t gonna show him mercy, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I’m not thinking anything. I know you men have a tough job and these…these inmates here are the dregs of society. But right now this dreg is my patient. So I’m going to ask you again: what was done to this man?”
“He was kicked. A few times.”
hands around neck holding it
body turned to the side
body flat down on table
“This is…my god. This is quite severe. I- Thank you, Officer Strayhan. You can go. Nurse, wheel him into x-ray and get me a skull series, stat.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Dr. Tumaco,” Strayhan said. He cleared his throat. “I- We-Officer Ilg and me-we’d appreciate if you would be…careful with how you word things in your report. Hopefully MacNally’ll be okay. But we both have families to support. And if the captain reads that our use of force was excessive, it could be our careers. The rocks-so you know, our official story is that while trying to escape, MacNally fell down the rock bed, banged himself up pretty badly. Nearly ended up in the water. Officer Ilg and me…we saved him from drowning.”
bumps
rolling
movement
pain swelling bulging
pain!
The voices faded further into the distance.
“Thank you, Officer. I understand your concern. I’ll take it from here. Rest assured…”
A FOGHORN BLEW IN THE DISTANCE. MacNally opened his eyes. A thick bandage was wrapped around his head and an IV snaked from his right hand. Moaning, he heard moaning. It was him. Pain.
“Pain!”
A man rushed to his side. “Okay, Mr. MacNally. Okay. I’ll take care of it…”
Darkness muted his vision, and seconds later, he heard nothing.
“MR. MACNALLY. WAKE UP.”
